Pain of the Unknown
by megq
Summary: Ron appears at the Burrow tormented by Hermione's torture. Ginny witnesses the horror Harry, Ron, and Hermione face while on their own in Deathly Hallows.
1. Chapter 1

I sat at the long, empty hardwood table in the kitchen, mindlessly stirring my now cold soup. Sighing, I rested my hand in my chin, staring out the Burrow's small windows into the rapidly expanding darkness. _Harry. Harry, where are you? _I let my mind come dangerously close to submitting to the dark shadows that had been ever present since the trio had disappeared at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The nightmares of Harry injured, in pain, desperately calling out to me as Death Eaters swarmed around him, jeering and tormenting. Absently I pulled on a loose strand of my wild Weasely red hair. Biting my lip, i stifled a small cry as my dark nightmares threatened to overtake reality. Through the haze of pain and worry, I heard the sound of my mother's knitting needles gently clicking in the sitting room just of the kitchen. Letting the sounds of my childhood remind me of the Burrow's comfort, I pulled myself out of the dangerous places of my mind and back to the warmth and familiarity of the Burrow. With another heavy sigh, I stood from the table and walked slowly towards my mother. With my head hanging towards the ground, still heavy with dark and painful thoughts, my mind automatically registered the sorry condition of my trainers--fringed and coming apart at the seams. _Blimey, Ginny, you're looking a fine state._Grimacing, i automatically made plans to ask Hermione to go shopping with me, carelessly planning the future before i realized...Hermione was gone. I fought the sudden, childish urge to stamp my foot as anguish swept over me. _Where are they?_Seeing my mother sitting quietly on the couch, i sprinted my way over to her and threw myself on her lap.

"Mum", I cried, letting my emotions seep out at my mother gently wrapped her arms around me and rocked me like a child. "What if something's happened, how would we know? What if they need help? My mother's arms tensed around me as she leaned more into the embrace.

"Shhh", she whispered, "its out of our control now, they're on their own". As she spoke these last words, i heard her voice shake and I tightened my arms around her.

"I'm sure their okay, just laying low and keeping out of the way". We could both hear the false note in my voice, we both knew that wherever the three were, they were in the middle of it, surrounded by the most dangerous and powerful dark wizards in the wizarding world.

"Come to the kitchen", Mum said gently after a couple minutes of silence, "let's make some tea", I nodded, running my sleeve over my eyes.

I leaned against the well-worn counter of the Burrow's kitchen as my mother prepared the tea, my mind again straying to the contents of my nightmares. _Just stop it Ginny. They're fine. _Roughly pushing the dark thoughts away, I opened a cupboard to get out two cups. That's the moment might nightmares began to fuse with reality. From the darkened lawn out front we heard the sudden crack of someone apparating and a loud thud as something hit the ground. My heart automatically picked up, everyone was home, who would be apparating to our house at such an hour. Then my nightmares became true. From the yard came a cry so filled with anguish and pain, so desperate in its plea for help that i physically had to steady myself with the counter. The sound ripped through me, leaving my heart somewhere near my ankles, as my brother's tortured voice cried out into the night,

"Help me! Somebody help...Oh God, please...somebody". Barely a second of shocked silence had passed before the cups in my hand tumbled to the ground and my mother and I sprinted to the front door. Already feeling like my heart was going to jump out of my chest, my mind struggled to keep up with reality. The nightmares came crashing back. The blood and cries of my friends, once distinguishable from real life, invaded my mind and left me trembling. My nightmares, however gruesome or tortured they had become, could in no way compete with the reality of seeing my brother, with his tousled red hair bent over the small, deathly pale and tortured body of my best friend. Ron's head was pressed to Hermione's neck as he sobbed, moaning over and over, "Oh god..Hermione...Hermione please". His broken cries pierced my chest and pushed my legs faster, running like never before to get to them. As the light from my mother's wand pushed into the darkness, Ron and Hermione's crumpled forms became clearer and more heart-wrenching. Through the shield of Ron's body, Hermione's hand dropped to the ground below, revealing torn and broken nails with blood seeping down her fingers, dyeing the grass below. The sight stopped me in my tracks. I had never thought of Hermione as vulnerable; gentle, caring-definitely, but she had always had a strength and confidence about her that gave hint to her brilliance and power. Her hand though, still and bloody, made20me fall to my knees. My breath caught in my throat and i heard the startled gasp of my mother a couple feet behind me.

"Hermi..." I tried to force words from my mouth, searching desperately for answers, but my throat constricted and all i could do was crawl forward on my hands and knees, scrambling towards the fallen pair as my reality suddenly became my nightmare. Suddenly Hermione's body jerked, as if invisible strings were attached to her limbs, a tortured whimper escaped her mouth, which was clenched tight as if fighting to hold back a scream. Ron frantically lifted his head, his eyes wide, frightened as they searched her face, his arms unconsciously tightened around her, bringing her body closer to his chest. I reached his side, my mother falling to the ground next to me. Trembling she reached her hand out to brush Hermione's cheek, staining her fingers with blood and dirt.

"Ron" she whispered in a choked voice, "Ron, what happened, is she...how.."? Her words fell to silence as Ron's sobs grew louder.

"Help her...please...save her". Ron's voice trembled in the darkness, tears running down20his face and dripping onto the still figure he held clutched in his arms.

"I need her, she can't...." His voice clenched and as he tightened his hold even more, Hermione's head fell back revealing a gruesome and jagged cut across the pale skin of her throat. My breath caught and I gently reached out, my hands desperately searching for a place to touch her, trying to comfort her and myself. My mother suddenly snapped out of her fixed gaze, the blood clearly frightening her into action.

"Ronald, get her to the house. Ginny run inside and clear off the kitchen table". My brain tried to make sense of her words, still transfixed by the horror before me. Hermione's sudden whimper of pain brought me to the present. I scrambled to my knees, tripping and running to the house with Ron and mum following carefully behind.

I frantically swiped the remains of my soup and the papers laying carelessly on the table to the floor. Sobs threatened to escape from my clenched mouth and my mind threatened=2 0to go numb from the sudden shock. Trembling, I searched for clean dish towels and laid them carefully on the table, meticulously straightening the edges so my mind didn't wander back to the scene outside. Mum stumbled into the kitchen, holding the door wide for Ron to enter. I hoped, prayed, that the darkness outside had made Hermione seem more gaunt and battered, that the warm light of the Burrow would lessen the horror. The sight before me made be back away in disbelief. Hermione lay completely still and limp in Ron's arms. Her sleeve had fallen back to reveal bloody gashes running up her arm and disappearing into her clothes. In the light, the rest of her body became visible, elucidating the extent of her torture. The skin exposed was impossibly pale and her veins stood out dark and angry in contrast. Blood dripped down Ron's trembling arms to the floor below, staining his clothes as Hermione's life ebbed away. Shaking my head, I backed even further away, refusing to believe the truth before me. Ron gently lifted Hermione to the table and immediately sat down next to her, again burying his face against her middle. Mum stood off to the side, her mouth open with pain and her tears spilling down her face. Striding forward, she grabbed Ron's shoulder, "Ron, Ronald you have to tell us, I have to know how to help her". Shaking him, she tightened her grip, digging her nails into his shirt. "Please", she cried desperately, "I need to know". Ron slowly lifted his head, his eyed dead with pain, "Bellatrix Lestrange". The hate he poured into those two words was tangible. Suddenly as if awoken from a stupor, Ron angrily spun around from the table, his face a frightening combination of torment and fury.

"SHE TOOK HER. SHE TOOK HER AND I COULDN'T DO ANYTHING". I watched as the anger drained out of him and he collapsed back onto Hermione, whispering "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". Mum's face had paled when the word's Bellatrix Lestrange had left Ron's lips. She stood shocked for a moment, unable to move, before springing back into action with even more urgency than before.

"Ginny, I need to get these clothes off, I need to see what that...I need to help her". I nodded, swallowing hard and backed from the room, before turning and stumbling up the stairs to grab a night gown.


	2. Chapter 2

Grasping the frame of my bedroom doorway for support, I threw myself at the old wooden dresser in the corner of my room. Quickly ripping open the second drawer, I grabbed one of my many dressing gowns and started back to the stairs, my heart still pounding painfully in my chest. Before I had even reached my doorway, I heard a shriek resonate up the stairwell from the kitchen below. Stopping suddenly, I again reached out to grasp the worn wooden frame of my room. Swallowing uncertainly, I started forward again only to be halted by loud screams and Ron's hoarse, frantic "Hermione"! Gasping, I sank to the floor, my mind finally catching up to the present. A cloud of panic washed over me, consuming me and yanking away any possibility of normal function. Knotting my hands into my already twisted auburn hair, I let out ragged, hysterical sobs. I had thought not knowing was worse than any reality my friends could have faced, but how could it be this bad? I could never have possibly imagined this. Shaking my head clear and wiping tears from my face, I pushed my ragged trainers under me and stood on weak legs. Hearing Hermione's tormented screams quiet to scarred whimpers, I grasped the gnarled wood of the railing and propelled myself back to the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, I begged myself, _Ginny, be strong. Strong like Hermione would be. _I pushed forward into the kitchen and was again stopped short by the scene in front of me. Hermione, while till deathly pale, now no longer maintained the somber silence of a corpse, but whimpered slightly, weakly tossing her head as if trying to escape, while Ron desperately tried to calm her.

"Hermione...please, I'm here. You're safe. She won't...she can't hurt you anymore. Please, I'll keep you safe this time...please". Ron unconsciously let tears roll down his face as he stood protectively over Hermione's now still body. Mum stood off to Ron's side, adding her own gentle words of comfort in an effort to chase away the demons plaguing the slight, vulnerable girl laying before her. Hearing my entrance, Mum's sharp eyes zeroed in on the white nightie in my hands. With a jerky nod, she beckoned me closer to the table. Keeping my eyes wide and focused on the cupboard on the wall in front of me, I concentrated on keeping my movements smooth, trying to maintain a facade of strength. Reaching g Hermione's side, I gathered every ounce of resolve in me and slid my eyes downward to the tortured body of my best friend.

Gruesome patterns of slashes and cuts marred the bare arm laying motionless before me. I hesitantly reached out, careful of causing her more pain, and laid my fingertips gently on her limp wrist. I gasped, feeling the coldness of her skin, and immediately searched for the eyes of my Mum. _There wasn't much time, we had to help her now_.

Through trembling lips Mum softly prodded "Ronald"? Laying a hand on his still shaking shoulders, "Ron, dear", her voice cracking as she tried to keep a normal tone, "you must tell us what she did, what happened to Herm...", her voice choked of Hermione's name and she glanced over at the motionless girl, "...to Hermione"?

Keeping his body bent over Hermione's, his face pressed into her shirt, he whispered, "I couldn't move, I couldn't help". Sliding a clenched fist into his hair, he sobbed, "She...She just kept...she did it for so long--Oh God...He trailed off, reliving again the night's torment. Mum tightened her fist around the back of Ron's shirt, her knuckles going white with the pressure. "Did what Ron...What did that...what did she do"? Closing her eyes, Mum braced herself on the kitchen table, afraid of Ron's answer. Through my brother's soft sobs, I heard the answer, a word so cruel the penalty for uttering it is death, a word that makes every magical being seize up with fear. "Cruc...Cruciatus".

Tears slipped out from under my mother's closed eyelids. My heart seized in my chest and I let out a small whimper. Gazing down upon my fingers still resting on Hermione's arm, I allowed my hand to gently skim along a small stretch of unmarked skin. Noticing My the wetness beneath my fingers, I lifted my hand to realize I had begun crying. Steady, silent tears streamed down my face and I raised20my head to my mother.

"Mum", I cleared my throat, "Mum, we have to help her".

My mother's eyes flashed open and the fire and urgency behind them gave me strength. "Ronald, out! You musn't see this". Using both hands to grip Ron's shoulder's, Mum gently tried to guide Ron from Hermione's side, knowing how desperately Hermione needed looking after. Ron jumped from the table, defiant,

"No" he stated plainly, "I won't leave her, I promised. I was away from her once before and...and this...." he motioned jerkily to Hermione, guilt and remorse racking his body. Swallowing hard, Ron shook his head. "Just help her, I don't care about me, she's all that matters".

With a small nod, Mum turned her attention back to Hermione. Shaking, she moved closer to motionless body on the table, her lips pressed together to form a thin line. She gently brushed the loose, bloodied strays of hair from the girl's face, taking time to carefully brush blood and tears away from her closed eyes. Taking a deep breath, Mum said sharply, "Ginny, over here, we need to hurry". I nodded, swallowing, and quickly joined my mother. With the care only a mother could posses, Mum raised her wand, silently cutting through the outer layer of Hermione's ragged and stained clothes. My breathing hitched as the fabric slid away from her body, exposing her arms and legs to the soft light of the kitchen. From end of the table, Ron made a sudden jerky movement, as if struggling to keep his body in control and took a half step closer to the table, resting his clenched fist on the wood just below Hermione's feet, his eyes unblinking and fixed to her slight body. Looking down, I reached out for the cloth in front of me, slowly dragging it away from Hermione's arm. The cuts that had been visible on her hands and wrist continued with no break up to her shoulder, stretching across her chest and neck. Trembling, I gathered the fabric in my hands, anxious to throw it out of my sight. Hermione whimpered as the fabric stuck to the blood seeping from her body.

"Im sorry, I'm so sorry" I croaked as tears began to slide down my face. "Ginny, we don't have time, hurry". Nodding, I stifled my sobs, and helped my mother peel back the tattered remains of Hermione's blouse and jeans. The cuts intricately sliced down Hermione's entire body, weaving a grotesque pattern of torn flesh and blood. I hovered close to her, eyes again filling with tears, "Ron, what.."? Trailing off, my throat suddenly went dry. I brought my hand up to touch Hermione's still cold skin, trying not to desperately throw myself across her and sob. Pressing my lips together, I noticed the difference between my hand and hers-mine, pale yet life still flowed visibly beneath the surface as my veins carried blood through my body. Noticing a pattern between the cuts and the way my veins wove through my own hand, I let out a gasp.

"Mum, how...what made these"? Yet as the question tumbled from my lips, the answer lay right before me. The Cruciatus Curse, so debilitating in its nature, made the victim's muscles and tendons seize and clench so that they lay jerking and unable to control their movements. The pressure from Hermione's desperate attempts to curl in on herself and escape had split her veins, pushing them to the surface and releasing precious blood. Retching, I tore myself away from my best friend's body and slid down to the floor by the counter. Flashbacks, snippets of laughter and friendship hit me in wave after wave-- Hermione braiding my hair, gently consoling me about Harry, moments from the Great Hall, laughing over Ron's foolish antics. Images flew through my mind as I let out raw, jagged sobs, my tears spilling over and dropping to the floor. Through the roar of memories, I heard Mum softy, desperately casting healing charms, trying to seal the cuts as blood continually dripped to the floor. My eyes fell to Ron; he stood rigid and unmoving at the foot of the table, his face pale and his body trembling. He stared with wide, frightened eyes at the horror before. The anguish, the pain, the remorse in his blue eyes shone fiercely and pierced through the darkness creeping into my vision--they were the last thing i saw, before my nightmares once again overtook me.


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness. Flashes of screams and searing light. Cruel whispers broke through the dark, threatening and tormenting. I had to move, to escape. Clawing my way through the dark, my hand landed on something warm and sticky. Another flash of light lit the sky and Hermione's ashen face and bloody body became visible before me. Lifting a hand to cover my horrified expression, my eyes fell onto the still form laying beside her. His wild black hair lay slick with blood, and his captivating emerald eyes lay hidden from the world by dark eyelids. Whimpering, I reached out a hand to stroke his face, gently touching the deep gashes marring his smooth skin. "No...Oh, God...Harry".

"Ginny...Ginny, please, wake up". Mum's voice penetrated my horror and I began to slowly return to reality. Recognizing the flowery smell of room, I blinked and through the haze of tears and sweat, I saw the familiar, comforting eyes of my mother anxiously searching my face. "Oh, Ginny", my Mum brought me into a warm, tight embrace, slowly rocking me. I pulled back and peered into my mother's face; she always looked so confident, so natural t hat it shocked me to see her so distraught. Fear quickly gripped my heart, "Hermione..? How...Mum you should be with her, healing her." Tears began to leak down my face. _Why was she here? Was is it too late? _ Mum looked down, almost ashamed.

"I sent a message to Fleur, she's...she's much better at healing. She sent me to you". Mum's eyes met mine, "Ginny, she's doing everything she can". The corners of her mouth trembled and she moved a trembling hand to cover her face. "I wasn't good enough...there was just so much...". Mum's quiet pleads trailed off into silence and the sudden stillness brought back flashed of my nightmare. Harry's eyes closed, his blood smeared over the ground...Roughly pushing off my bed and out of my room, glimpsing a fleeting expression of shock on my mother's face, I ran down the stairs with my heart wildly pounding. Emotions and images raced through me, yet one word, one name remained constant in my mind, and I focused my entire being on it. _Harry._Fear like nothing else I had ever experienced pushed into my heart. _Why hadn't he been with Ron? _ I knew nothing could have stopped Harry from being at Hermione's side, he would have done everything he could to come back with her. My throat constricted, he should be here. Hurtling down the last steps, I pushed into the kitchen, not allowing myself to think about Hermione, still and bleeding on the kitchen table; my eyes went directly for Ron. He still stood by Hermione's feet, shoulder's square and jaw set. I hurled myself at his body, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to turn towards me. "Where is Harry", I demanded, pounding my fist on his shoulder. "Why isn't he with you, is he...", I swallowed, glancing at Hermione, "...is he hurt?"

Ron's dead eyes provided little comfort, but he managed to raise a consoling hand and rest it on my shoulder. "They went after him, he had to run; he was with us at first, but there was a fight- there were curses everywhere..." Shaking his head, as if to clear away a bad memory, Ron continued, "We had to split up...I'm sorry". I bowed my head. _You don't know anything, Ginny, don't think the worst._"Well", I cleared my throat, "we'll just...just have to wait then , I suppose". I turned back towards the table, no w aware of Fleur, who hadn't even acknowledged my entrance, as she hovered over Hermione, muttering spells and gently dabbing with a towel. As I walked slowly back to the table, Ron retaking his stoic position by Hermione's feet, I absently noticed the way the dark red blood stood out against the crisp white of the nightie Hermione now wore. I sat down on the bench by Hermione's arm, glancing up into her colorless face and sighed. Hermione whimpered slightly, making me glance up sharply, Ron leaning forward on the table. Fleur, with surprising gentleness, brushed her hand down Hermione's cheek, soothing her, before continuing with her spells. Silently staring into Hermione's face for a few seconds more, I lowered my head to my arms and let memories from last year at Hogwarts lull me to unconsciousness.

_..."Harry! Harry Potter if you don't come out right now I'll curse off your..."_

"_My what?". Harry's strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back against his chest as he whispered in my ear. "Not anything you would miss, right?" He said, his smile pressing into my hair. Blushing, I leaned back, resting my head on his shoulder. _

"_Ginny" he sighed, laying his chin on my shoulder so that his wild onyx hair mixed with my own fiery red. "Ginny, I've missed you"._

"_Missed me? We were in class, we've been apart for an hour?" His only answer was to pull me closer, pressing a kiss to my neck. Shivers ran down to my toes and I leaned back against his warm body. Harry was constantly warm, always comforting..._

_...I stared up at the crisp blue sky stretching over the Hogwarts grounds, catching a glimpse of a mail owl soaring above before Harry's face appeared above mine, silhouetted by the sun and making his inky black shine around his head like a halo. His emerald green eyes sparkled with joy as his perfect lips turned up into a lazy smile. My breath caught, he was so beautiful. He dipped his lips back to mine, letting his hands travel up to my hair, pulling me closer. Breathing hard, he let his weight briefly fall onto my body, his broad, muscular shoulders more than enveloping me as he held me close and sighed in contentment. I closed my eyes and felt the sun gently wash over my face, Harry's hair soft and warm against my cheek. I smiled, these days could go on forever._

Feeling reality creep into my dreams, I tried to ignore the hard press of the kitchen table into my cheek, clinging onto my memories. _Harry's laugh, his sparking eyes..._I smiled. _The green grass of the Grounds, deserted alcoves in the castle...warmth, happiness...blood? Screams, curses flashing through the night._My nightmares once again crashed into my head and I jerked up from the table, panic rising in my chest. The happiness that had surrounded me in my dream fled my body, leaving a dull ache as it was replaced by weariness and despair. I brought myself back to the present, the thoughts of Harry falling from my mind as I remembered the events of the past hours. I lifted my eyes to Hermione's body lying just inches from my arms, as still as ever. As I looked her over, hope flared up in my heart. Hermione s wounds, although still numerous and a visible, angry red, were mostly sealed, stopping the blood that had steadily flowed since the beginning of the night. I wildly glanced around, noticing that Fleur was nowhere in sight and hope again dared to raise its head. _That had to be a good sign. _ My eyes landed on the slumped figure across from me; Ron lay in a deep sleep, with his head down on his arm, the other hand stretched out and clasped tightly over Hermione's small, pale fingers. I tentatively reached out to touch Hermione's cheek, ever so softly letting my fingers rest on the angry scars marring her skin.

"Zee only zing to do eez wait, eet eez up to 'er". Fleur's silky voice startled me and I let my hand fall from Hermione's face. I pulled my hand back to my lap, fixing my gaze on my intertwined fingers.

"Fleur, will...will she be the same?" I heard my voice tremble, giving way to a fear that had haunted me from the start. Distantly, I remembered Neville's parents and the stories I had heard at Hogwarts about people who survived horrible torture. I looked up into Fleur's beautiful face, her expression troubled as she reached down to gently smooth back a curl from Hermione's foreheadf. "Zere eez no way to tell". Noticing my distraught expression, Fleur rested a reassuring hand on top of my own. " 'Ermione eez strong, remember zat". Gently squeezing my hand, she stood up. "I vill come back to check on 'er". and with a swift nod she left the kitchen, quietly climbing the steps to where my mother had decided to finally let herself get some rest.

Feeling a wave of weariness wash over me, I slowly stood up planning to collapse on the couch in the sitting room. As I was about to leave the kitchen, a sudden sound from outside distracted me. Pausing, I tried to peer out into the night. A sudden thud against the front door made me jump and I cautiously lifted my hand to the knob to pull it open. Twisting the worn wooden handle, I threw open the door and caught a brief glimpse of wild, matted black hair and weary green eyes, before the man, who had been half- slumped onto the20door frame, fell forward, collapsing into my shocked arms and bringing us both the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

The dead weight of Harry's body dragged me to my knees as thousands questions flew into my head. Above everything else, panic rushed into my chest, momentarily paralyzing me- I couldn't comprehend what was happening. Harry's weight knocked me back and I pulled his body up closer to me, his head falling against my neck. "Mum", I whispered, my voice failing me. I tried again, "MUM"; this time my scream echoed throughout the house, jerking Ron from his sleep. "MUM, quickly...please", I half sobbed as Harry remained motionless against me. I heard the patter of quick footsteps as Fleur and Mum came running into the kitchen. Immediately, Fleur went to Hermione, looking for signs of distress as Mum frantically searched for me. Her eyes landed on our fallen forms and her hand flew to her mouth. "Harry", she said, the words barely audible and then she was rushing to my side, pulling out her wand as she ran. She collapsed to her knees next to us, reaching out a hand to feel Harry's forehead. For the first time since Harry's arrival I was able to get a good look at his body. Releasing the breath that had been caught in my throat, I felt relief wash over me. There were no outward signs of harm, no horrific evidence of torture that had been so apparent on Hermione. I reached up to lay a hand on his cheek, slightly alarmed at how hot he felt. I caught my sleeve with my hand and yanked it up to wipe some of the sweat from his face.

"Mum, what's wrong", I whispered desperately.

"I don't know, Ginny. Let's get him to the couch". I nodded, trying to ease myself out from under his dead weight. Mum gently took hold of his arm while I struggled to lift the other side of his body off my legs. Suddenly, his weight disappeared and I saw Ron hauling Harry up, draping one of his limp arms over his own shoulder.

"Come on, mate. Let's go". He carefully carried-dragged Harry towards the sitting room, leaving me momentarily stranded on the floor. Scrambling to my feet, I dashed after them, sending a worried glance over to Fleur, who nodded, signaling that she would follow shortly.

Ron dragged Harry over to the couch and let him down gently into the soft cushions. Harry's sneakers, which were worn to the point of being threadbare, rested at an awkward angle on the floor, the rest of his body sinking heavily into the couch. At that moment, Hermione began to whimper, her soft cries piercing the somber atmosphere like a dagger. Ron lifted his head sharply and immediately left Harry's side and rushed to the kitchen. My eyes followed his movement briefly, before landing back on Harry's motionless figure. Slowly, I walked over to him, letting my eyes linger on his face and traveling down his body. He had grown in our time apart; his jeans now only came down to his ankles and his hair, which he had kept just long enough to hide his scar, had grown out into an even more uncontrollable and wild mess. I quietly lowered myself to the ground by his feet and started to unlace his shoes. I tugged them off gently, careful to not disturb him, and then grabbed hold of his legs and placed them on the end of the couch. Grabbing the nearest chair, I settled myself down by Harry's side, taking the time to spread a blanket over him and put some pillows behind his head. After seeing to it that he was comfortable, I found myself staring into his face while my fingers automatically went to his hair, trying to smooth it back into a more manageable state. At that moment, Fleur swiftly entered the sitting room and immediately joined me at Harry's side. With an expert eye she looked him over, checking for visible injuries or signs of dark magic. Taking out her wand, she ran it over Harry's body while I watched anxiously behind her, preparing myself for her diagnosis. "I zink zat 'Arry eez just tired. 'E 'az been through much". I nodded, feeling a relieved smile break out across my face.

"I'll stay with him, I want to be here when he wakes up". I tore my eyes from Harry's face and looked into Fleur's silver eyes. "How is Hermione", I asked softly. Fleur, returning my gaze, responded carefully, "I zink zat she vill open 'er eyes soon. Zen I vill be able to tell more".

I nodded, trying to hide how much her uncertainty bothered me. I could feel her eyes on my face for a while longer be fore I heard her stand up from her chair and head back to the kitchen. When I could hear her soft murmurs to Ron in the next room, I finally returned my gaze to Harry's face. Sighing softly, I resumed my gentle smoothing of his hair, occasionally letting my fingers slip down to brush across his forehead and cheeks. He suddenly jerked in his sleep and I quickly withdrew my hand. Curling my fingers into a tight fist, I sat back into the chair and drew my legs up to my body. I kept my eyes trained on his face, searching for any kind of movement. I needed Harry to wake up, I needed him to tell me everything would be okay...that Hermione would be okay. I laced my fingers between his, letting his warmth seep into my hand and race up my arm and into my heart. It felt so right to be touching Harry, to be by his side. I suddenly felt a soft squeeze enclose my hand and I quickly jerked my eyes up to his face, unconsciously tightening my grasp.

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of bright emerald eyes. I gasped, unable to stop myself from running a gently hand down his face. "Harry". I leaned in closer to his ear so that my lips almost brushed his hair. "Harry, can you hear me"? He blinked s lowly and I pulled away, staring anxiously down into his face. "Ginny?" his lips forced the words out. "Where...?" Then, as if everything had come rushing back to him, he sat up, startling me, "Hermione! Where...", his eyes frantically darted back and forth before spotting Ron's tall figure standing in the kitchen. "Is she..." , His eyes locked back onto mine, full of panic and fear, " Where is she"? Gently taking his hand, I hesitated, unsure of what I should reveal, what he was ready for.

"She's in the kitchen, but....", my words were cut off as Harry scrambled off the couch, pushing himself forward to grab onto the door frame before his legs could collapse again. I rushed to his side, aiming to grab his arm so he didn't fall, but he was already pushing himself forward-- falling to his knees beside the table where Hermione lay. Harry's mouth fell open in disbelief, "Hermione...", the tortured whisper fell from his lips, as tears began to drop silently down his face. He tore his eyes away from her body, searching for Ron. "Im sorry...I'm so sorry. I tried to get to you...I could hear her...", he broke off, words lost in his sobs. Ron strode quickly over to him, kneeling down so that he could rest a hand on Harry's shoulder. His face pale an d pinched, he leaned forward to lend comfort to his best friend, consoling him in his anguish. I watched from my place by the kitchen cabinets as Harry took one of Hermione's hands in his own and held to his cheek; keeping it clutched tight against his face, he leaned into to it and closed his eyes. Fleur, who had been hovering by Hermione's head with a fresh dishtowel, quietly moved an old, wooden over chair to Harry's side, letting her hand brush briefly over the top of his head as she passed, going back to stand inconspicuously at the head of the table. Harry, moved one hand from Hermione's, momentarily relinquishing his tight hold, as he attempted to hoisted his weary body off the floor and into the chair. I was at his side before I was even aware of moving, desperate to keep him from hurting himself. I grabbed his arm, selfishly relishing the chance to touch him, and lowered him down into the chair. He placed both elbows on the table, pressing Hermione's hand to his face, and bowed his head towards the floor. I watched in silence, feeling guilty, as if intruding on a moment Harry wouldn't want me to see. I backed out of the kitchen to the foot of the stairs and collapsed onto the first step with a heavy sigh. Waiting had never been one of my strengths; impatience, just like flaming red hair, was characterizing Weasely trait. Resting my head against the banister, I wrapped my arms around myself and let my eyes drift shut.


End file.
